


Fairy Lights

by Missy



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery
Genre: Character Study, Fae & Fairies, Fluff, Gen, Halloween, Introspection, Mid-Canon, Trick or Treat: Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 15:03:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16098092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Anne celebrates All Hallows with simplicity, within the woods.  But does she have company?





	Fairy Lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DramaHuman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaHuman/gifts).



She comes to the woods with a candle and a plate of ginger snaps straight from her own cupboard. The path is short and she must wear three sweaters over her nightdress to tread its chilled expanse, but tread she does, hair plaited down her back in a stream of fiery red like a schoolgirl’s.

This is not a journey she tells Gilbert about, no matter the intense strength of their marriage or the warm familiarity they’ve shared for so many years now; no, some things belong to the sanctity of one’s own soul. She allows him his sighs and his stares, his nights whittling on the porch with Jem’s dog at his ankle – he allows her All Hallow’s Eve and asks no questions.

So no one follows Anne to the clearing, where she sits with her cookies and her book. The grass isn’t cold or wet enough to deter her – winter hasn’t set in, and the fall has been quite mild. Her book is a light, mild read – a soapy piece of work by a young novelist from Toronto who had been whispered about among the ladies in her afternoon opera club. It spreads itself across her knees, and she tucks her index finger against the corner of the page, turning the golden flycover over to reveal richly illustrated pictures of misery and woe. Apparently the duke’s middle daughter has been kidnapped by a viscount…

She doesn’t notice the glimmering dots of light until they are nearly upon her, hovering softly. Like raindrops a few light softly upon her shoulder, leaning down to read the words spread before them.

She smiles. “You’re late.” There’s a light titter that ripples through the crowd – and a demand that she speak up, read aloud. 

“All right!” she laughs, then begins,“’Angel Deverell gasped as she wheeled around and slapped the viscount across his handsome face. 'how dare you?!’ she shouted…’”

After playing host to a noisy party and a gaggle of loud teenagers, she supposes reading aloud to a few fairies wouldn’t be troublesome way to pass the evening.


End file.
